


heroine

by luckypeopl3 (awstenknight)



Category: Kellic, Pierce the Veil, Sleeping With Sirens
Genre: Absent Parents, Abusive Relationships, Addiction, Drugs, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Flashbacks, Gang Violence, Heroin, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Substance Abuse, addiction mention, but they're all flashbacks, domestic abuse, kellic - Freeform, not currently being abused, rape mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2018-12-30 21:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12117480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awstenknight/pseuds/luckypeopl3
Summary: on hold until my book "BLONDE" is completed"Heroin, my sweetest sin..." he says."I can't seem to get enough!" he screams."Pull me under and wake me up," he grits through his teeth."Morphine lover, make me numb!" he shouts."Make it so I can't get up..." he cries."Be my heroine."





	1. prologue;;

What's the point. It's not a question, it's a statement. There is no valid point. It's just.. There. A fact. We live, but there is no reason for it. To breathe, to walk, to talk. There is no point.

But there is a point to the fun. Whether that fun be something innocent like swinging on planks of rotting wood in a park on a midsummer's day or something as simple as jamming out to favourite bands... Or something as dark and dangerous as the risky world of addiction: drugs, alcohol, harm and self-destruction. Self-mutilation. Pick your poison.

Sometimes there's not a known way on how that path was taken. Destruction of love, death of someone you cared deeply for, or just a wrong turn on the way to society's methods of happiness. Sometimes even if you know it, you just don't want to admit it.

_"That will be fifty bucks, kid."_

Heroin was my poison; my drug of choice.

Whether I wanted it or not, I needed it. It was something I could never get enough of.

_"Here's your shit, now get the fuck out of here."_

I never stayed to hang around. I came to get what I wanted, and I always left when I was told to. I knew what I was doing to myself, I didn't need a cop to tell me I needed rehab or to send me to jail where I would be forced to go cold turkey.

I knew I was destroying myself, and that was okay.

I was okay.

I am okay.


	2. ;;exalt your flames

**A/N: this is your only warning so heed it: this book contains some seriously hella dark themes, so if you're not comfortable reading that, I highly suggest you don't read this book (or stop reading this book when you've hit your limit). if you've read one of my previous books, Night Vision, then you will have somewhat an idea of the nature of this book (and if you haven't, go read it! (yay for shameless self-promotion!). as it says in the tags, there are themes and plot lines revolving around abuse, drug addiction, alcoholism, strong language, emotional manipulation, and etc. PLEASE (!) do not continue if you feel that you be offended/triggered/upset/some-other-synonym by this book. thank you.**

**p.s. this book will be entirely in Kellin's P.O.V. with a 3rd person excerpt here and there. continue on (or back out) now.**

**-x-**

I stare in the mirror. My eyes stare back at me, sullen and empty; I looked like a ghost, lifeless but still in existence. I felt like a zombie that hadn't eaten in days. I had dark circles around my eyes from a lack of sleep. My hair was greasy and could use a washing, but I can't be bothered to. What's the point? I'll make sure to wash it when I'm preparing to look pretty dressed for my grave.

I study the way my facial features have changed over the last three months. Yesterday was the official three-month mark from the day I started injecting poisons into my skin. I hated this feeling: a lack of control, yet a feeling of complete control all at the same time.

I hadn't shot myself in a few days and it was pure horror and agony. I wanted to drop my stance in front of the dirty mirror and race to the kitchen. I wanted to grab my needles; I wanted to press my arm and stab my veins. I needed to.

I, however, cannot allow myself to do that, as I'm down to my last few doses. I had to call out sick from my job the last few days because not only had I nearly overdosed on Monday, but I was going cold turkey at the moment. My body needed more; I craved more of the poison in my veins. I wanted to feel the high, to feel good and enjoy the pain.

But I have to wait. It will be worth it.

I move my gaze from the mirror and focus on the miscellaneous items in my medicine cabinet.

Numerous prescription drugs - half of which weren't prescribed to me - and plenty of bandaids to cover up the bleeding. There was some foundation in a skin tone that is now too lively to match me. My skin didn't have the natural glow it used to four months ago, but that's my own fault. I took the drugs, and here I am. A deadbeat who's in a shaggy apartment barely being held together by the wooden planks and nails it was built with. The mold made it cheap, yet unhealthy at the same time. But did that really matter?

I shake my head slowly, closing the medicine cabinet and leaving the bathroom in a daze. Everything was processing so slowly, and anything that went too fast left me in a state of whiplash. I could barely make it across the room and into the kitchen without wanting to throw up the non-existent contents of my stomach and pass the hell out on the floor. I'd consider letting this kill me, but I'd rather not die in this way.

I deserve this. I deserve to feel this pain and misery; this torture is what I need. I won't let myself take the easy way out. I am not a chicken. I deserve this for what I've caused and what I've done in my past.

_"Kellin, you're a fucking disgrace!" he yells at me. I shake my head slowly, backing away from him._

_"I didn't mean it!" I cry, shaking out of fear. He's going to hurt me. He's going to hurt me again._

_"Why would you say it if you didn't mean it?" he asks, looking at me with tears in his eyes. He looks like he's in pain; his eyes are swollen and puffy. Full of anger and sadness. He's upset and I'm the one who caused that. He's going to hurt me. He's going to hurt me again. He's going to hurt me again and that's my own fault._

I open a top cabinet, reaching out to grab the peanut butter jar and the nutella jar. I place them down on the counter. I grab a paper plate - for I don't think I could handle washing dishes made of breakable and heavy materials - and throw down two slices of bread. Slowly, but surely, I make myself a sandwich. At least I'm capable of feeding myself. Do I even deserve to eat?

_"I hate you, and you don't deserve love!" he screams, knocking the vase behind him onto the ground. It shatters into pieces, water puddling onto the ground and flowing out. The vase held the flowers I bought for him our first date. They were fake, but they were to represent our ever-lasting love. The flowers would never die, and neither would we._

_"Please, stop," I mumble quietly, unable to speak loudly. I wanted to cry, I wanted to drop down to my knees and beg for forgiveness. My mouth can't stay shut, and it's my fault that I ruin everything. I didn't mean to give a sassy remark. I didn't mean to cause this._

_"You're as fucking worthless as these plastic flowers!" he angrily states, pointing at the flowers that were now torn apart among the mess of shattered glass and split water. He grabs a larger chunk of one of the glass pieces and walks closer to me. "Nothing is meant to last forever, Kellin, no matter how much you think you love me!" He stops in front of me, pushing me to the ground and placing his foot on my chest. He leans down and shakily draws a line on my cheek with the glass. "You don't love me and you never will. You are heartless."_

I grab a plastic solo cup, filling it with cold water from the sink, and sit down at the table - if you could even call it that at this point. I take a bite from the sandwich, chewing it slowly as I stare out the window and observe the minimal movement outside.

There usually wasn't much going on outside. A car or two would pass by, speeding along, every few hours. There would be a kid or two - they liked to call themselves "gangstas" (whatever that means) and cause a ruckus. With as trashy as this apartment complex and, well, area in general, it came as a surprise to most that the cops we had were just as trash as everyone else who lived here. Some cops were previously gang members, others took part in the drug cartel and simply joined the police force to prevent from easily getting caught and protecting their others. Unfortunately, although it was deemed safer to buy from the cops, it meant that the price of the drugs was sky-high. Even the dealers who weren't cops charged nearly just as much, with a lower price of maybe a dollar or two at most. A small ounce bag of cocaine would cost you nearly $50, where you could probably snag a bit for $30 in most other "hoods". Maybe I should stop trying to use the terms that those "gangsta" kids outside use.

_"I don't want you," he says in a calm, yet angry demeanor. He steps closer, holding what looks to be a baseball bat behind his back. "But no one else can have you."_

_"That's fucking bullshit!" I shout angrily, stomping as I step forward. "You know that I love you and that I care about you, I don't understand why you don't understand that! It's so simple, but you keep pushing!"_

_"Because you're the liar!" he screams, pushing me backwards into the wall. "You're the liar, you're the liar, you're the fucking liar! You don't love me, you never will! I don't know why you're here but you don't love me, you never loved me, you're here to fuck me up! You don't love me, you are a liar! You will pay for your sins, you are a cold-hearted liar!"_

_I curl up in a ball, covering my head with my arms. He swings the bat, hitting the framed painting on the wall above me. Glass cracks and falls onto me, cutting up my arms._

_"Stop!" I scream in fear, shaking._

I throw the empty paper plate out and refill the solo cup. There is no use wasting the cups after one drink. I need to make do with what I have. I need to be able to afford the drugs, the heroin. I need my poison, I need my fix. These last few days have been hell without it. The flashbacks come back stronger, the thoughts are clearer yet still so blurred. I don't want to remember it. Even if it's my fault.

I sigh.

**-x-**

**Word Count: 1559 words.**


	3. ;; do you feel exposed

_"Please... Please don't," I stammer, choking on tears I'm trying my best to hold back. "Please, I love you! I wouldn't cheat on you and I wouldn't leave you!"_

_"Kellin, you are the scum of the Earth, and I hope you know that I know what you did. You are a liar," he says, shaking his head._

_"Please don't hurt me," I mewl, looking at him with tears bordering my eyes. "Please."_

I ended up hauling my ass to work today. My boss seemed surprised.

"Kellin?" Justin, one of my co-workers, called out.

"Mm?" I hum, looking up from the magazine I was browsing. The gas station was having a slow day, which wasn't surprising. Nobody crossed this part of town, not unless they had to.

"You're zoning out again," he chuckles, waving me over. "I gotta restock the chip aisle but since you're not doing anything I'm making you help me."

"You got it dude," I chuckle lightly, catching the bags of chips he tossed. I started piling chips on the side of the aisle while he began the other side. Justin was really my only friend. He knew my problems of my... ex and his...

"Hills! Quinn!" Mr Fowler, our boss, yelled out. He was insistent that we call him Mr. Fowler rather than his actual name, Jack. Aside from being a total smartass and slightly arrogant, he was nice.

"Coming!" Justin and I shout back at the same time, placing the last few chips on the shelves. We head over to Jack, both of us having a confused look on our faces. Normally he only called us over if something was terribly wrong, or, miraculously, one of us was being promoted.

"Alright, boys, I'm takin' a vacation next week, so I hired two guys to help around here while I'm gone. You gotta train them today through Friday and test them on the waters Saturday. I'm leaving Sunday so you better hope they can work," Jack says, motioning people - the two guys I assume - to enter the building from the Employee's Only door.

"Are they doing exactly what we're doing?" Justin asks, looking at the door.

"Yep! So it should be damn well easy to teach them what to do," Jack responds. "This is Gabe," he points to a man with shaggy dirty-blonde hair wearing a plain grey tank top with _"That's What" -She_ written across it, "and this is Jesse," he then points to the other man with long, curly ginger hair. He was covered in freckles and was wearing a tank top with red, navy blue, and white stripes.

"Hey," I say to the two. Justin waves awkwardly at them.

"I expect you to start training them now. Go, go, go!" Jack shoos us off and walks into his office. He says he's doing paperwork but I'm pretty sure he's watching PornHub half the day and FaceTiming his girlfriend the other half.

_"Uhh huh, yes, Kellin!" he moans. I keep trying to push him away but he doesn't budge. He's too strong._

_"Stop, please!" I shout, trying to get him off of me but he has me pinned down. I try to kick him, but I'm chained down. I can't get out. "Please please, stop, stop, stop! Get off of me please I don't want this! I want you to stop!"_

_I keep crying and pushing but he pushes down harder on my arms, holding them down with one hand. He stares at me, slapping me. He most likely just left a bruise._

_"Shut up, princess," he growls, doing anything but stopping. He keeps going. I cry harder, but it's no use. I'm just his toy and that's all I am to him._

_But he loves me, doesn't he?_

"Alright, well, um," I stammer, unsure of where to start. One of my daily "take some drugs or you're going to continue facing the recovery pains" headaches just began, rendering me slightly useless.

"I guess we should start off with basic duties!" Justin chimes, slamming his hands together. "Okay, well, you mainly just have to restock the shelves.. Me and Kellin already did that today so you guys don't have to worry about that."

"Is there a step stool or something? Kellin doesn't look tall enough to reach the top shelves," Gabe asks, laughing lightly. I roll my eyes and let out a soft chuckle.

"Justin usually picks me up or vice versa," I answer. "And yes, you are right, I can't reach them, but neither can Justin. Jesse looks to be the only one here who could reach it."

_"Kellin, just pick it up would you!" he shouts at me. I wince at the loudness and almost drop the jar. I had to climb to the top of the counter to reach it. He was short as well, maybe a bit shorter than me._

_"I'm trying!" I reply, jumping off the counter and handing him the jar. He stares blankly at me._

_"Useless," he spits, grabbing the jar from my hands and throwing it at me. The jar barely misses my head, breaking on the wall behind me. "That was the wrong jar."_

"Uh.. Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he uh, he spaces out sometimes. Kells?" Justin says, putting his hand on my shoulder. I shake the thoughts away, giving a small awkward smile.

"Sorry," I say to the three of them. "I'm a bit tired."

"Don't you get an employee discount?" Gabe asks.

"Can't you just get a coffee here?" Jesse adds on, nodding toward the coffee machine we have behind the counter.

"No, no employee discount," I answer. "Jack's a bit... Frugal."

"He does occasionally give us free food and drinks but it's usually a reward-" air-quoting reward "-for good and hard work," Justin says. The other two nod. Gabe swears under his breath, causing Jesse to giggle. I guess they know each other.

**-x-**

**Word Count: 991 words**


	4. ;; the ceiling fades

I stare outside my window, standing in front of it while holding a cup of coffee. I haven't slept much and I needed the caffeine. I can't stay home from work anymore; I can't get fired. I need this job. It's the only thing that gives me purpose; the only thing that lets me obtain my wants. My needs. 

There's not much happening now, as per usual. The "gangsta" kids aren't out and about. A singular car has passed by in the hour or two that I've spent standing here. 

It's some time in the middle of the night. The darkness from the outside comforts me. It leaks slowly from the outside, spreading to the brighter interior of my dining room (if you could call it that much). Most would take joy in viewing the opposite: a dark room being lit by natural light. An early morning, where you can watch the sun rise and feel joy in seeing such beauty, to watch your home be lit by natural light. To feel the openness and freedom. To feel enjoyment. 

But I feel the opposite of what they do. I find comfort in watching the darkness slowly take over the light in my home. The artificial light, to watch it be slowly suffocated by the moonlit darkness outside. It's a miracle I could afford to rent an apartment with such large windows. 

_"You stare out the windows a lot," he says, coming up behind me. He wraps his arms around my waist, careful to not knock the mug of hot coffee out of my hands. I smile softly, nodding._

_"They're comforting," I say. He lets go of my waist as I turn around to face him. "To watch natural light spill in through them."_

_"You know, Kellin, sometimes you act like a basic Tumblr girl," he says, frowning at my comment. "Natural light this, 'aesthetic plants' that."_

_"There's nothing wrong with finding comfort and enjoyment in simple things such as nature's beauty," I say, arching my eyebrow at him. I never understood why he was so against to like the things you like. He was so against the mainstream, but he was so against the "hipster."_

_"There is when everybody pretends to like it so they can fucking fit into the popular crowd," he hisses. "Stop pretending to like what's popular, it's not cute. It's annoying and if you're going to be like that, you can go fuck yourself and leave."_

_"It's not necessary to be like that," I frown. "There's nothing wrong with liking what you like, and I'm sorry you feel so insecure about that."_

_"Excuse me?" he says with a glare that sends shivers down my spine._

_"I- I'm sorry, I- I didn't- I didn't mean to," I stammer, subconsciously backing away from him._

_"You did," he says angrily. "Yes you did, you did! You really did! You meant it, you meant it wholeheartedly!"_

_"Please, I'm- I'm sorry," I say, fear rising in me. "I love you. You're perfect. I didn't- I didn't mean it. I- I didn't- I didn't mean what I said."_

_"Kellin," he says menacingly, stepping forward. "Don't back away from me. Don't you back away. Don't you **dare** walk away when I'm talking to you." _

I take a sip of my coffee. The coffee is scalding, burning the back of my throat as it slides down. I shrug off the pain. It gives me something to feel. Something that isn't an emotion, but something that is physical. Something that isn't from the withdraw. Something everyone experiences. Something normal.

_"I love you," I say, my voice cracking. I try to blink back the tears, but they stealthily slip down my cheeks. "P-Please don't- don't hurt- don't- don't hurt me."_

_"You said I was insecure!" he screams, throwing his mug onto the floor. It breaks into pieces, scattering across the wooden floorboards. "You demeaned me! You hurt me, you can't just- You can't just get away with that! You asshole, you asshole, you asshole! I hate you!"_

_"Please," I whimper, backing into the window behind me. "You're scaring me. Please- Please s- stop."_

_"No! Fuck you!" he shouts, stomping as he moves closer to me. I press myself further back against the window, but there is no more room for me. There is nowhere for me to go._

The light from the kitchen begins to flicker. The darkness from the outside begins to spread itself more into the room, drowning out the light. It's swallowing; it's choking. 

But comforting.

_"Please don't," I cry out, shaking from the anxiousness building inside of me._

_"You deserve it," he screams at me, picking up a knife from the kitchen counter. He moves forward quickly and my mug slips from my hands. It spills the coffee that remained onto the floor, soaking my feet and the dining table that stood nearby. He pauses, staring at me._

_"I- I'm- I'm so sorry, I- I didn't- I didn't mean to!" I blubber, trying to keep my composure to prevent myself from angering him more. Though, the countless apologies are likely not helping in that favor._

_"You deserve it," he repeats, approaching me and giving me a memory I won't dare to forget._

I finish the coffee, leaving my stance at the window to put the coffee in the sink. Placing my hands on the counter, I lean forward and sigh. I've had freedom from my withdrawal symptoms for a few hours, but they're bound to come back. I can feel a headache coming already. 

I shake my head slowly, trying to ditch whatever placebo I'm giving myself. I turn around and look at the clock on my stove. 3:13 A.M.

It was nearing the end of the week. I would get paid tomorrow, or so Jack says. After rent, I would have enough money to spare to buy another batch. I could shoot myself now and get rid of this dull, emotional ache inside of me. To ditch the feeling of nothing... To stop feeling numb. 

I ponder the thought, wondering if it would be worth it. 

I could buy another batch on Saturday. I could make these last doses last until Saturday. I can last until after work on Saturday.

I could do this. 

I can do this.

I stumble to the bathroom in a daze, rummaging through my medicine cabinet for the ticket to sweet, sweet bliss. Searching for my sweetest sin. 

"Where... Where is.... It..." I whisper to myself as different pill bottles falling onto the counter and rolling into the sink or onto the floor. The longer I look, the more I grow impatient.

"What the fuck?" I whisper angrily, crawling up onto the counter. I hastily throw the shelving inside the medicine cabinet onto the floor, growing anxious. "Where is it??"

"What the fuck!" I shout, banging my hand on the wall. "Where the fuck is it?!" 

I hop off the counter, opening the cabinets under the sink quickly. I throw the things that don't matter out of the way. I want my fix. I want my fix. I need it. 

"Fuck," I swear under my breath as I empty the contents of my cabinets. The floor's a mess of pill bottles and capsules, and I could just take them all now and fucking die. What's a life worth living when there is no point? What is the point? There is none. That's it. It's a fact and there's nothing to contemplate about it. 

I pause for a moment, staring at the prescription pills and miscellaneous recreational drugs. 

_"Don't you think that this is meant to be?" I scream at him. "Don't you think that we are?"_

_"Do you think that this is meant to be?" he screams back angrily, knocking the new vase off the table. It shatters onto the ground, the water forming into a puddle. I should have expected this. The last time the vase broke, we had the same conversation, only spoken in different words._

_"It seems like we lose ourselves in between," he hisses._

_"Well, it seems like the harder things become the more you push away!" I shout back. "These promises that you can't keep, it's getting harder to hold on!"_

_"You said you would never let me fall!" he says, trying to shove me, but I fight back this time._

_"Don't you think that we are meant to be?" I shout at him, tears flowing down my face. "Don't you think that we are?!"_

_"No! You said it and I'll take you at your word!" he bellows, shoving me with more strength and demeanor, leading me to fall into the puddle of water and broken porcelain._

_"These wounds have been open for forever now," I cry out, feeling the pain from the gashes the shards created. The puddle of water starts to fade into a maroon as the gashes begin to bleed._

I could die here. I have that power. I have that control.

_"In time you'll find that we can sober up," I testify, trying to fight the tears. "We can- We can clear up any dirt... We can open up."_

Control. 

_"No, you said this, you said that you'd never let me fall," he hisses, kicking my sides as I curl into a ball. I writhe in pain._

I have control.

_"Your mind has gotten the best of you!" I shriek, shielding myself from his kicks and punches. "You've done enough!"_

_"Don't give up because you're losing," he hisses, knocking the stand that held the vase. He walks away as it falls, landing next to me._

I don't have control.

**-x-**

**Word Count: 1582 words.**


	5. ;; let your feelings show

It's Friday. It's an exciting day. I get paid today, which means tomorrow after work I'll be able to pick up another batch of the fuel to my highs. I'll get what I need so desperately. I wish I could say that I could stop when I wanted to, but I know I couldn't. Not now, not with the flashbacks. I can't handle them, especially when they're so vivid when I'm sober. I can barely handle the flashbacks when they're blurred and distorted; sometimes that makes it so much worse. 

Training Gabe and Jesse to do the simple job of cleaning up the aisles and restocking the shelves didn't take as long as Jack said it would. He probably just assumed that Justin and I would screw around instead of telling them what we do on a daily basis. I guess I could see why considering Justin and I screw around when we're having a slow day - which is most days. People don't pass this town unless they have no other choice. Even then, they still try to avoid it. 

"Hills, Quinn," Jack says, grinning widely, "you two did good with training those boys. And quick too! I'm so proud. You know what? Help yourselves to a nice cup 'o' coffee, or a bag of chips or something. Nothing more than a couple of bucks, please. It's on the house for your good work!"

"Thanks, Mr. Fowler," Justin says and turns quickly to the chip aisle. I nod, giving a small smile at Jack. I turn around to make myself a cup of coffee. The gas station's coffee could've been better, but it's better than what I had at home. That, and it was free. 

"Lawson, Barham!" Jack calls out, moving his attention away from Justin and I. I throw a couple of sugar packets into the coffee, leaving it mostly black. I hate black coffee, but I need the caffeine. I need the taste of bitterness. 

_"Kellin, you're such a sorry, pitiful fool," he spits at me. I shake my head, shaking like a dog shitting razor blades. "Nobody's gonna love you like I do. Without me you're nothing."_

I shake away the thoughts, trying my best to ignore the hazed flashbacks. I lost control last night. I couldn't convince myself not to do anything. I had to do something. I couldn't handle the flashbacks. As the days go by, the worse and worse they get. The more lucid they get. It's almost like I'm back at that place and that time; it's like I'm reliving the event, the trauma. 

I take a sip of my coffee, wishing I could go home early to shoot myself up again. To feel the high again and get rid of the slightest memory of him. I couldn't bear to think his name or the way he looked when he was angry; I can't handle the memories of the way his russet brown eyes swelled with animosity and despair. I can barely remember the good times, the times before he started to lose his temper when I said something he didn't like. The times before I began to cause trouble and antagonize him. 

"Slow day, huh?" Justin asks, chewing on a bag of salt and vinegar chips. I cringe mentally, remembering distinctly the disgusting taste. 

"When is it not a slow day?" I laugh gently, taking another sip of the bitter drink. It's warm, but not hot enough to scald my throat. It disappoints me how poorly the coffee maker worked. Or maybe this was how coffee was supposed to be and not the scalding hot coffee that mine at home does. 

_"Disgrace, Kellin," he snarls as the glass he was holding fractures on the floor, the shards scattering. I should be used to this. I'm nothing but a disappointment to him. "You can't do anything right."_

"Wait, most of our days are slow days?" Gabe asks, peeping his head from the corner of the aisle with the alcohol. Justin and I nod.

"Sweet," Jesse pipes in, stacking up soda cases in the front. He was the strongest one of us, I assume, so we left the stacking to him. He didn't seem to mind too much. 

"Hey, you okay?" Justin asks me quietly, a look of concern lacing his eyes. I shrug.

"I guess," I mumble, taking another sip of my coffee to avoid the serious conversation. I know Justin means well, but it's a hard topic to cover especially since I can barely handle the thoughts about him. 

_"Oh, oh no, no no, Kells!" he shouts, fear flashing across his face. He had really gotten me good this time. I was in a daze, unable to focus on much of what was going on._

"You're not a tense as you normally are," Justin notes. He pauses, looking around to make sure the other guys aren't around. "You... Last night?"

"Yeah," I sigh, looking down at my feet. "I did."

_"Kellin??" he quivers, leaning down and placing his hand on my shoulder. I lay on the floor, dizzy. I look around slowly, though my vision is blurred and I can barely make anything out aside from the look of worry on his face. "Kellin, why would you do this??"_

"The flashbacks were getting bad, weren't they?" he asks solemnly. I nod slowly, feeling a wave of sadness wash over me. I hate talking about the topic. It makes me feel so pathetic; it's like I'm useless and dependent. It makes me feel I can't take care of myself, and I guess in a way that's true. I'm destructive and I don't even realize it half the time. I'd say that old habits die hard, but they're not old and it's not like I've tried to stop. 

"They were," I say quietly. I shuffle my feet, feeling a little insecure. "Last night I was having a bad one. The window one."

"The one with the coffee?" Justin asks. "The one where he pushed you out?"

"Yeah," I say wistfully. "That one." 

"I'm sorry dude," he responds, patting my shoulder awkwardly. "I wish there was just some way I could help you, you know? It's... It's torture watching you do this to yourself." 

"I wish I could stop myself sometimes," I shrug, "but it's just... I don't have the willpower. Every time I think I'm finally doing okay, the flashbacks come back distinctly, or the withdrawal is so bad I feel like I'm going to die if I don't... like... refuel, I guess."

"Refuel? Seriously?" he asks, arching his eyebrows. 

"I don't know, Just," I say, feeling my eyes begin to water. "I never meant for you to get hurt from my own issues. I mean, you're my only friend. I don't want to lose you, especially since you've been there for me from the start."

"I'm not leaving you, Kells," he says, frowning. "I'm actually slightly offended that you'd think that."

"I didn't mean to imply that you were leaving!" I say frantically, feeling alarmed. "I didn't mean it, I swear, that's not what I meant. I didn't mean that Justin, God, that's not what I meant at all, not at all. Please, know I didn't-"

"Kells, calm down," he says calmly, placing his hands on my shoulders. "Come on, breathe with me. Slowly... In... and out. Again, in... and out."

"S-Sorry, I just..." I trail off, trying to calm myself down and get my breathing back on track. "I'm sorry."

"No, no," he says, shaking his head. "Don't be. I'm sorry for wording it that way."

"God I'm so stupid," I mutter, violently throwing down the now-empty coffee cup into the trash can. "I'm so pathetic, this is ridiculous." 

"Kellin, it's okay. It's okay to feel panicked, it's okay," he expresses, looking at me with concern lacing his chartreuse eyes. 

_"Kellin you shouldn't feel scared of me, I'm not something you need to be scared of," he states crisply. "You're being such a drama queen and I'm sick of it."_

_"If you're so sick of me then why are you still here?" I snap, immediately regretting the words that uncontrollably spilled out of my mouth._

_"If it weren't for me then you wouldn't be the man you are today," he shouts. "You need me and I need you. We're made for each other, you can't change that fact."_

_"So I'm your pity case," I say vehemently. "Are you here because you love me or just because you feel the need to build me up to be a better person?"_

_"Of course I love you, Kellin," he says quietly, his anger fading into a state of melancholy. "I will always love you. You are mine, you are the one. I don't want anybody else."_

"No, it's not okay!" I say sharply. "I need to get over myself and stop being such a drama queen."

"You're just repeating all the things he would say to you," Justin says calmly. "Please calm down, I need you to think about what you're saying and what you're doing."

"He would tell me that he loved me," I whimper, looking Justin in the eyes. I felt the waterworks threatening me that they would let loose at any moment now if I kept going forward, if I kept pushing. 

"He was a messed up guy," he says, pulling me into an awkward embrace. I leave my hands held up against my chest for a few moments before returning the hug. "But he's gone now. He's gone, and you don't need to worry about him, okay?"

"Okay," I sigh. "Okay, yeah... I will." 

"Promise?" he asks, arching his eyebrows as we pull away from each other. 

"Uh," I hesitate, fiddling with the bracelets on my wrist. He looks at me adamantly. 

"Kellin..."

"I promise," I say, giving up the argument. 

"Good," he says, giving me a soft smile. 

I return the smile, nodding slightly. 

I should open up to him more. 

**-x-**

**Word Count: 1645 words.**


	6. ;; let's lose our minds

An hour to go. One hour until I can walk down the street to the alley where I'll meet up with Nick Martin. He's been the guy I've been getting my poison from for the last month or so after the last guy got arrested. I guess he had beef with one of the cops since the cops don't tend to arrest the drug cartel. 

Nobody had come into the gas station so far today, so it was a fairly boring Saturday. Normally, Saturdays are our busiest day of the week, since we get a few travelers passing through. I'd consider something being up, but some days there just isn't a customer. The perks of working at a gas station in a deadbeat low-income town, I guess. 

Jesse, Gabe, Justin and I were chilling around the store the whole day, chitchatting and playing dumb games. We played a few games of Go Fish, which Gabe seemed to be legendary at and Justin kept accusing him of cheating. Jack probably would've yelled at us to stop goofing off, but even he must've realized we weren't going to get any customers today. Currently, Justin was buying himself another beer, and Gabe and Jesse were out front playing some sort of Tetris with the soda boxes. I decided I could afford to buy myself a small can of Monster and have enough for the heroin and my rent. I've learned how to manage my money well because of my addiction, so at least there's that. 

"Hey, guys!" Gabe calls out to Justin and me from the front of the store. "You wanna play truth or dare?" 

"I dunno man," Justin shrugs. "It's kinda late, I've had two beers, and we get off in about an hour."

"Don't be such a downer," Gabe frowns. "What about you, Kellin?"

"Uh, I mean, I- I think that Justin's right," I stutter slightly, unsure. I used to enjoy games of truth or dare a few years ago when I was in high school, but after senior year they seemed to lose their muse. They were fun at the parties where you had so many different people who would tell completely different stories about their lives, or the multitude of different people who would be slammed enough to have fun in doing anything you told them to. 

_"There, I did my dare," he grins, looking around at everyone as if he were to pick them next. I crossed my fingers, hoping he wouldn't pick me. Nobody picked me for truth or dare, and I was glad of that. I didn't mind answering truths, but I wasn't stupid enough to do just any dare and if backing out of a dare was just as bad as picking truth every single time._

_"Eenie... Meenie.... Miney... Moe..." he trails off, pointing around randomly at the different people that sat in a circle, some on the floor and some on the couch. There were many more who stood behind us, either waiting for their turn or being a bystander just watching and enjoying the show of the candor who were eager to answer their truths and the daredevils who were excited to show-off. I was normally a bystander, but my sister dragged me into the circle this time._

_"You're always a bystander, Kellin, you gotta live your life wildly if you're ever going to have fun," she'd always tell me._

_"You!" the boy shouts, pointing at me. "You. Truth or dare?"_

_"My name is Kellin," I mutter, annoyed that he didn't even bother to ask my name. "Truth."_

_"Well, Kellin, truth is such a lame choice," he says, grinning. "But fine. Hmm.."_

_"You should've picked dare," my sister whispers, elbowing me jokingly. I roll my eyes at her._

_"Shut up, Kailey," I whisper back._

_"Kellin! How do you feel about dicks?" the boy asks. I stare at him with wide eyes._

_"The fuck?" I blurt out, feeling my face heat up._

"Oh come on, not you too," Gabe whines. "Guess it's just you and me Jesse."

"But the game is so boring when it's just two people. Three's a crowd," Jesse responds, seemingly backing out of the game.

"Man, you guys are lame," Gabe grumbles, returning to messing around with the shape of the stacked soda boxes. 

_"So? You gonna answer my question?" the boy presses. I ponder, wondering if I should answer honestly or not. I can't think for too long, the hesitation won't help me if I decide to lie._

_"Dicks are dicks," I say, shrugging. That should be a fair enough answer. Vague enough, I hope._

_"Bland and kinda boring, but I'll take that as an answer," the boy laughs. "My name's Vic, by the way."_

The door chime rings and we all look over. It was around ten o'clock at night, and very rarely did people ever stop here this late. 

"Uh, hey," the man who walked in says. "You guys are still open right?"

"Yeah," Jesse says. "We're open 'til eleven on Saturdays."

"Good," the man says. He looked strangely familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. 

The man walks around a couple of aisles, humming a tune that sounded eerily familiar to something I had written a couple of months ago. I shuffle a bit closer to the man to catch onto the words he's whispering melodically. 

"No, I don't even miss you," I hear the man sing lowly. I listen closer, recognizing the lyrics. "Not for one second, I'm not looking back, no. California reminds me of you so I'll keep driving." 

I begin breathing unsteadily. How does this man know my song? 

I turn around, shuffling quietly back to the other side of the store to where Justin was.

"Hey, Kells," Justin greets me, waving his free hand, his other holding his third beer of the night. 

"Hi," I say awkwardly. "Say, uh, do you remember that song I wrote a couple months ago?"

"Which one? There were a few, right?" he asks, arching his eyebrow. I shush him.

"Not too loud," I whisper-yell, glancing over at where the man was on the other side of the store. "That guy over there... He's humming the one I wrote about..." 

"Oh," he says quietly, his eyes widening. "You don't think...?"

"I mean... I can't... I can't think of... What he looks like, I just.... I can't do that," I stammer. "I can't do that, I really, I- I can't do that. I can't handle that, not when I'm... Not when I'm like this."

"Just... Take your break or something," he says. "I'll tell Jack you had to go vomit or something if he gets antsy. Let me go investigate."

"Okay... Yeah, okay," I say, nodding slowly. Justin nods, patting my shoulder as he walks past me, leaving the aisle to head across the store. The man seemed to be interested in the numerous coffee mugs that had shitty advertisements and cheesy traveler memorabilia printed on them. 

_"Hey, Kellin!" he calls out to me, waving me over. I wince at the attention being brought to me in the store, but I should be used to this by now. He was always so gregarious and outgoing._

_"Yeah?" I say as I walk over to him, looking at the shelf in front of us._

_"Look at all these coffee mugs," he says. "Oooh! Look! This one's got San Diego on it! Oh oh! And this one has Medford on it for you!"_

Coffee mugs.

_"These mean nothing!" he screams, throwing the San Diego and Medford coffee mugs onto the ground. "These are nothing!"_

_"Stop, please!" I cry, wiping the tears from my eyes with my sleeve, but it's no use. They keep coming._

_"No, I will not stop just because you fucking asked me to!" he shouts angrily. "You're not the boss of me, you don't control me, so you stop it! These mean nothing, your flowers have no importance, and neither does any other moment we've had together."_

_"But-"_

_"No!! You don't get to say anything! It's not your turn. It's my turn, it's my turn, shut up! Shut up!!" he hollers furiously. "You're such a disgrace and I can't believe that you have the guts to say that to me!"_

I shake my head, focusing on my need to leave. I need to go. I need to get out of this building.

I walk out to the Employees Only area in the back, where we're supposed to take our breaks and walk towards the end where nobody from the front of the store could see me and sit down on the ground. I pull my knees up to my chest, resting my head. I stare at the few posters we have on the wall, mostly Justin's band posters. He had a few old flyers hung up advertising his band For All We Know. Justin says they haven't done much recently because they need another guitar player and a singer. He used to nudge me to try out, but I declined him so many times he gave up. I wouldn't be good enough. The little talent I have is drowned out by my problems, especially my heroin issue. Besides, Jesse mentioned being able to play the guitar yesterday, so maybe Justin will badger him to try out for his band instead. 

"Kells?" Justin calls out, breaking me away from my thoughts. I look away from the posters on the wall and turn my gaze to him. He looks worried.

"Mm?" I hum, standing up and walking towards him. 

"It is," he says quietly. "It is him."

**-x-**

**Word Count: 1606 words**


	7. ;; I've fallen to pieces

"No," I say.

"Kellin?" Justin says softly, pulling me into an embrace. I start shaking my head slowly, not wanting to acknowledge the reality.

"No," I say again, but in a different tone. I shake my head.

"Kellin, use your words, please," Justin begs. I pull away from the hug, looking anywhere but at him.

"I just I... I'm destroying myself because he destroyed me but I destroyed him because I thought I was protecting myself but I wasn't because I was destroying myself while I was destroying him and this is just... this is all my fault, Justin!! And I- I fucked up and I can't do this anymore Justin, I can't do this. I just can't do this. If I destroy myself then I've destroyed everyone else around me and everything's wrong and it's my fault because I keep trying to avoid feeling the pain and I end up causing pain to everyone else including myself and I'm just inflicting this, Justin, I'm the one who's at fault-"

"Calm down, Kellin," Justin says, cutting me off. I shake my head.

"No no no, I can't, I can't calm down. I'm anything but calm! I need it, Justin, I need it. I need it. I need it," I burst out, breathing frantically.

_"What's that Kellin?" he asks me. I look over at him quickly, subconsciously hiding the paper bag behind me._

_"It's nothing," I try to say nonchalantly, but I can't help but have my voice crack. I can't let him know. He'll hurt me. He'll kill me._

_"If it's not important you should be able to tell me what it is, Kellin," he says, crossing his arms, staring at me as he waits for my reply. I look at the floor, my eyes darting around at the different wavy lines in the sienna brown linoleum._

_"It's... uh..." I trail off, trying to come up with something quickly that I could pass off. It's never a good idea to lie to him, I know that. I know if I get caught, he'll hurt me._

_"Well?" he asks impatiently, raising his eyebrow and tapping his foot. He knows I'm going to lie. He's going to hurt me._

_"I-It's sugar," I say quickly._

"No, Kells," Justin shakes his head. "Come on, breathe in... Breathe out..."

"No! No no no!! No no no," I say frantically, shaking my head with tears falling from my eyes. "No no it's my fault he's here to hurt me, he's going to hurt me, he hates me, it's all my fault! I'm s-such a terrible person, Justin, you don't even know!! It's all my fault he hurt me because I I just I couldn't be enough!! I couldn't get it right and I I just I'm a failure and I'm s-so rude and I was sassy and sarcastic and never listened to a word he said! I never listened! I deserved to be hurt and now he's here to finish the job!"

_"Sugar?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows. He frowns. "What would you have sugar for?"_

_"I, uh... I have sugar for uh-" I stammer, unable to come up with a reason. "To make uh, cookies!"_

_"And why are you making cookies, Kellin?" he asks as he crosses his arms and looks at me menacingly. "Well?"_

_"For your, uh, your birthday, uh.... It- It was supposed to be a surprise, uh... I hope that's okay," I say quickly, hoping he buys the lie._

_"They better be chocolate chip," he spits and turns around and walks away._

"Kellin, you need to calm down, please," Justin says worryingly. "Please, deep breaths."

"I just, I'm, I feel like I'm gonna die, Justin," I cry out, wiping tears that fall from my eyes. 

"Come on, let's, uh, let's just go; let's get you out of here," he says. "Just, let me tell Gabe and Jesse, we'll explain to Jack later. This isn't healthy for your mental state."

_I sneak into the bathroom with the bag of 'sugar' I had somehow gotten passed him and lock the door. I guess I'll have to make chocolate chip cookies soon to keep from getting caught._

_I open the bag carefully, trying to be quiet to not seem suspicious or draw attention to myself, and take out one of the small syringes. I check once more to make sure the lock on the bathroom door was locked._

_"Shit," I hiss under my breath, knocking down the bag. The numerous syringes pour out onto the counter and clank against the granite. I pause, feeling on edge, waiting for a clue that he heard. A clue that he's coming here; that he's coming here to hurt me. To kill me before I kill myself._

"I haven't been in a healthy mental state in years!" I say frantically. "I've been slowly destroying myself and, I just, I'm not okay. I haven't been okay!"

"I know, I know, Kells," he says. "Just, Kellin, please. Please, for me, just, start here, start now."

"I'm just... I'm going to go home," I say. 

"Okay, let me go let Jesse and Gabe know and I'll walk you-"

"No, I want to be alone right now," I cut him off. "I just... I need to think."

"Are you sure? Can you be alone right now?" he asks. I nod.

"Yes," I say. 

"Can I trust you to be alone?" he asks and furrows his eyebrows. I look away from his piercing gaze.

"Yes," I say quietly. Justin looks at me and he knows he shouldn't. He should know that he shouldn't. 

"Okay," he says softly. He turns around and walks back into the store. I wanted to be alone but yet at the same time, I had hoped that he would've fought; that he would have argued to keep me from myself. But Justin knew he wouldn't have won. I don't blame him for not trying.

It was best that he didn't. 

I take a quick look through the window in the break room that showed into the store. Gabe and Jesse were talking by the sodas up front while Justin was talking to him. I shake my head quickly and turn away. I can't watch that. I need to leave. I need to leave now.

_"Oh, oh no. No, no no no, no!" he shouts. He sounds so loud, yet so muffled and quiet at the same time. It's as if he were yelling to me from the outside while I was underwater, or if I was in another room that was far, far away from where he was. "Shit, Kellin, why would you do this?"_

_I open my eyes slowly, keeping them slightly squinted. I groan and roll onto my side. My vision was blurry, and I know it was him who was yelling out to me. Who else would it be? There was nobody else here to care for me, and even then, he barely cared for me._

_"Kellin, come on!" he yells, gripping my shoulders and pulling me up from the ground. He shakes me but I have no strength to sit up or respond to him. He lets go of me and I fall back to the ground and lay limp. "Don't you dare leave me, not like this! Not like this, Kellin! You can't do this! I need you! You're mine, you hear me? You can't do this!"_

_I try to look at him again, but I can't. I feel like I'm being pulled under but I can't let go and let it happen. He's so insistent that I wake up from this daze, but I can't. I don't even know if I want to. Maybe if I die here, right now, this will all be done and over with._

_"Kellin, please!" he cries out. "You can't fucking do this to me, this isn't okay! You can't do this! You can't do this to me!!"_

_He hoists me up and wraps his arms around me, sobbing hysterically into the crook of my shoulder._

_"Please," he sobs. "Don't leave me."_

I walk outside the gas station and decide to take a long way home in order to avoid him at all possible costs. I assume Justin's trying to distract him right now, probably trying to convince him to buy useless merchandise that Jack keeps putting back in stock. God knows why he keeps ordering it considering nobody buys it except the occasional ditzy tourist. 

I take a few loops around the apartment complex - just in case - as I walk home. It almost feels like I'm being watched; it's like I'm being followed. I shake the thought away. You're just being paranoid, Kellin, I tell myself. 

I put my hands in my jacket's pockets after zipping it up and let out a shaky breath. It was getting late in the year and starting to get chilly out. It was cold enough for me to see my breath, which I'd normally find amusing, but I haven't been myself in years. I guess I'm not who I'm supposed to be now. I don't know who I am anymore.


	8. ;; darling, can you hear me?

I open my eyes and expect to view the familiar darkness that surrounds me: to feel the darkness that consumes me and the sensation of dread. The feeling that I've come to know when I was sober. But I felt none.

I didn't recall falling asleep - or losing consciousness at all. I look around, taking in my surroundings. I wasn't in my apartment. This place wasn't... It wasn't the dark, grimy place I call my home. 

This place was bright and felt almost cozy. It's sickening to me; it's different and it creates a sense of discomfort. 

"Where am I?" I whisper quietly to myself, sitting up. I look down and notice that I was in a bed that wasn't my own. The duvet was a soft brown color that had stitched rectangles in it, which were slightly darker. It looked like a chocolate bar.

I scan the room. It's not large by any means; it's actually quite small. It was square in shape, with the bed in the middle of the wall across from the door. The walls were a subtle beige and were brightly lit by the two windows on the left wall. The room was bare; there was nothing much in it. It felt homey, yet so empty at the same time.

_"Kellin!" he calls out loudly, startling me. I drop the plate that I held and it smashes into pieces in the stainless steel sink. I yelp._

__

"Y-Yes?" I stammer, hoping to God that he doesn't come to see the mess I've made. 

__

"What was that noise, honey?" he asks. I hear his footsteps grow closer and I scramble to hide the shards of what was once a perfect plate. 

__

"N-Nothing, I, uh, it's n-nothing!" I say fearfully. The sharp shards of broken ceramic slice the porcelain skin on my hands and fingers as I pick them up and quietly throw them away. The wounds start to bleed; the blood seeps out and drips slowly into the soapy water. The water begins to turn pink. 

__

"You sound unsure-" he begins but pauses. I look to my left and see him standing in the dining room looking straight at me. He knows I'm lying. He can see it on my face. He can see it in my eyes, in my heart, in my soul. He can see the blood on my hands, but the killer's not my enemy. 

__

"What the fuck?" I whisper to myself. I begin to stand up but I immediately lose my balance and feel my knees collapse. I grab the bed's canopy to prevent myself from falling. I curse under my breath.

I tighten my grip on the pole, forcing myself to stand up on my wobbly legs. I hope that my weight doesn't cause the bed's canopy to collapse.

I move my way slowly to the other side of the bed, holding onto the bed frame, and look at the distance between the windowsill and the bed. I could make it if I had a push.

Flinging myself from the bed frame, I manage to catch myself on the windowsill and the sheer beige curtains. I pull myself upwards in order to stand up as straight as I possibly can. My arms are weak, covered in bruises and wounds and scars from the times I never bothered to clean up after myself, but strong enough to hoist myself up enough and keep myself steady. Why are my legs so weak?

I move the curtains aside and look out the window. I was not on the first floor; it was the third story of the home I was in. I didn't recognize any of the surroundings. There was a black Mazda in the driveway, which was surrounded by tall, thick oak trees. There weren't any other houses nearby, just vacant nature. There were trees everywhere and it looked like the house was straight smack in the middle of a forest, far, far away from any civilization. 

"Where am I?" I mumble as I try to determine if I'm physically capable of making the jump down. I wasn't about to walk through the bedroom door and to my untimely demise. I don't know where I am; I don't know who's here. This is where I could die. 

_"Oh, Kellin, oh no," he cries, burying his face into my chest. I can't move. I don't even feel conscious. I feel weak and... This time it's real. It feels so fake, but it's real. These four walls... do I exist at all?_

__

"You can't do this to me," he whimpers as he balls my shirt into his hands. He continues to sob, yet he shouts so angrily. I know I've done it this time, but he can't hurt me when I'm gone. Gone... Gone.

__

"Goddamnit, Kellin!" he screams. He lets go of my shirt and lifts his head off of my torso. He slams his hands on the counter and I assume he's stood up. "You can't die, Kells. You can't die, not yet, you can't die."

__

He repeats it over and over as if it were a mantra. 

__

"You can't die, Kellin," he sobs. "I won't let you die."

__

"I wouldn't take that jump if I were you."

I jump, startled. I turn around and look at the doorframe to witness a familiar face. I hadn't even heard the door open. 

"I won't let you do that to yourself," he says. I stare at him longer. "Darling, it's okay."

_"You don't wake up to the thought of kissing razors!" I scream at him. He looks taken aback yet for only a split second. Immediately, his facade returns and he shows the anger in his eyes. His once comforting eyes._

__

"You're mental, Kellin!" he screams back. "You can't escape yourself. You're fucking stuck, kill yourself or not. You can't escape."

__

I feel exposed.

_"You need to leave him alone," he says sternly to him._

__

_"V, please," I beg. "Please, you can't do this for me."_

__

__

__

"Wha..." I mumble quietly, staring at him. The familiar honey brown eyes, the long brown hair, that soft, fluffy brown hair... The shiny ring upon his nose, the slight stubble on his chin and rosy cheeks.

__

_"Name's Vic," he says, shaking my hand. I look at our hands and pull away quickly, blushing. "We met at that party, you know, during the game of truth or dare? I noticed that Kailey dragged you in, but you seemed to have fun."_

__

__

__

"Yeah, uh, it was, uh, it was okay," I stammer. "Kailey likes to, uh, push me out of, my uh, my comfort zone, I guess, uh, yeah."

__

__

__

"No need to be so tense," he laughs. "I'm not gonna hurt you. You're too cute to deserve any hurt."

__

__

__

"Darling, can you hear me?" he asks, his voice faltering.

__


End file.
